


Leave it all behind

by Talesofwovensilver



Category: Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi | Spirited Away
Genre: (not self-harm), (on legal drugs - no illegal drugs in this), Bullying, Chihiro is an artist, Drowning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Overdosing, but i wanted to list any potential triggers, first chapter is kind of angsty, minor blade use, not that much, overused plotline I know, parental neglect, this all sounds worse than it is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 15:43:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14751707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talesofwovensilver/pseuds/Talesofwovensilver
Summary: Children are cruel. Chihiro never expected that to mean too much to her. But after returning from the spirit realm, she learns exactly how cruel children can be for a reason not even they themselves know. Chihiro is different, and to some, different can be a bad thing. When Chihiro is pushed to the edge, will she be able to pull back from it?ORCircumstances lead to Chihiro and Haku reuniting, how will things progress from there?





	Leave it all behind

Chihiro felt heavy. She could barely bring herself to drag her legs up the final steps to her house. The mental weight that she’d been pushing back all day was threatening to come crashing down now that she was away from prying eyes.

Still, she raised her arm to slide the key into the lock and turn it. Doing the same with the second lock.

The lights were off when she entered. Not like that was in any way surprising. Her parents were hardly ever around anymore. They had both received promotions in the past five years and worked out of town from morning till evening. Chihiro was used to fending for herself by this point. She cooked most meals herself, sometimes she made extra for her parents. But mostly they’d eat out before commuting back home.

It had been five years since they’d moved here. Five years since she’d first experienced the spirit realm. She’d never been back. But the memories still haunted her. She could barely look at her parents without remembering them as pigs. Which was why she never complained about their long hours spent out the house. They were happy bringing the money in, and she couldn’t do anything about it. She wasn’t quite sure whether she cared enough to anymore. Their greed fuelled them the same way it always had. It made Chihiro’s gut squirm thinking about it. It was easier not to be faced with them.

Sighing, Chihiro closed the door behind her, used to her mind processing the treacherous thoughts. She reminded herself that her parents provided for her. Even if sometimes it felt more like they did it to feel the satisfaction of doing so rather than for her. She knew that was harsh, but she’d learnt a long time ago they didn’t listen to her.

If they’d listened to her then maybe they would have stayed away from that tunnel; not eaten the spirits food; not gotten themselves turned into pigs and left her ten-year-old self alone and terrified in a place where she could easily have been killed. She’d come close so many times.

She’d gotten out, in the end. Saved her parents. Not that they knew that. They had always assumed the nightmares she’d had were from moving to a new place, and after a while, Chihiro had stopped telling them about them. Stopping running into their room for comfort in the middle of the night. They didn’t listen. Just told her it wasn’t real. Even now, when she’d startle herself awake in the middle of the night, coated in sweat, she would just close her eyes, breathe in and tell herself it was over.

She tried to remind herself that was what she wanted.

Forcing herself to stand up straight, Chihiro toed off her shoes, tipping them into the basket by the door that held them. Her coat followed, it was rainy recently, and Chihiro always figured she was better safe than sorry.

Grabbing her bag from where she had let it slump on the floor, she threw it back over her shoulder and forced her legs to move, pushing them up the stairs in a run. If she dawdled any longer she’d probably end up slumped in either the kitchen or the sofa for the next three hours.

And she had homework to do.

So better to get it out of the way now before she was forced to do it at ten o'clock that evening, which would surely only cause a session of panic and anxiety-induced dread as her tired mind thought up every single thing that could possibly make tomorrow worse than it was already going to be.

It was dark by the time Chihiro finished her set of maths problems and following history assignment. Her uniform was replaced with loose, slouchy clothes that acted as night clothes.

Too tired to bother making anything, Chihiro slinked down to the kitchen, grabbing a packet of a most likely very unhealthy snack of some description (she didn’t look too closely) and an orange to cancel it out. A glass of water sealed the deal, and Chihiro made her way back upstairs, almost slipping with her lazy, socked steps, but she caught herself without even spilling any water.

She deposited all items on her bedside stand and instead diverted her attention to the drawers on the other side of her room from her desk. The bottom two of the four drawers were used for her clothing, but the top two were mostly always open to some extent (unless she needed to access the ones underneath) and full of her art supplies. Various different pads of paper, old sketchbooks, new sketchbooks yet to be used, paints, pencils, ink pens, sharpeners, rubbers. Everything she’d collected over the years of birthdays, Christmases, and saved pocket money.

Making her way over, she gathered her current sketching journal, and flopped down on her bed with an array of pencils, switching on the lamp beside her bed. Ready to delve into the page for the next couple of hours.

School hadn’t been so bad today. She’d mainly been able to get to lessons, focus on what she had to do there and spirit herself away to the library come break and lunch. Her lessons had been ones where the seating plans were merciful, and the teachers put her in the front corner, then left her alone so others wouldn’t bother her.

Because that was the thing with Chihiro. Despite trying her hardest to avoid attention, she seemed to receive it in the worst possible ways. Almost from day one, she had been pegged as the lonely weird new kid, and that had meant she hadn’t been able to make any new friends, and that had continued for the next five years. Except that just because she didn’t have any friends didn’t mean she was left alone. In fact, quite the opposite, because she was alone so much of the time, that labelled her as easy pickings to every cruel, restless student within two years of herself.

Chihiro could never understand it. She tried her best to stay out of the way, but sometimes it was as though they actively sought her out. She’d stopped bringing anything to school that she didn’t need to by the time she turned thirteen because ultimately it would just be taken from her at some point and used to mock her in some way.

She tried to keep any personal things, like her sketchbooks at home. They were too precious to her to end up being viciously leafed through or torn out.

Sometimes Chihiro felt as though she were living through some bad nightmare composed of every stereotypical teenage high-school movie she’d ever seen. The kids at her school sure acted like it.

She just had to hold onto the thought this was her last year. Then she was sixteen and she could transfer to an art college outside their town in the nearest city. It would be worth getting up at five every morning if it meant peace.

Sometimes that seemed like the only thing she had to hang onto.

That, and a promise.

Pastels came next. They were messy, but sometimes Chihiro just needed lots of colour, no white spaces and today was one of those days.

Carefully, the colours made their way onto the page and deep blue merged with dark purples and blacks; a distinctive green stood out on the page – one Chihiro had spent a while looking for – embedded in a silhouette. One Chihiro could only just remember at this point. She only had her drawings for reference, and she hadn’t always been the best at art, it had developed over time. Something she could pour her work ethic and determination that she’d learnt at the bathhouse into.

It was all she had now.

Her hands were thoroughly covered in colour, and Chihiro had never been the neatest, but still, she made her way to the bathroom, washing and getting ready for the night. Her parents would probably be home soon, but they would cope without seeing her today.

Going back to her room, she moved everything aside, placing her art supplies back in the drawers and placing the finished piece on her desk. She’d find a place for it to go tomorrow.

Then she crawled into bed, not minding the colour smudges on her shirt or cover, barely noticing them.

Sleep came quickly. Which Chihiro was always grateful for. It was those moments between being awake and asleep where Chihiro’s mind started asking the hard questions, and the young girl herself was always happy to avoid those.

Because once she started answering them the world always seemed that much dimmer afterwards.

* * *

Her back burned.

She wanted more than anything to sit down and cry, but she could hear them on her heels.

“Ogino!” “Chihiro! Stop!”

She didn’t stop. The back of her school shirt was torn and the white material was stained red, the blood still coming from the long, pulsing cut on her right shoulder blade.

“Chihiro!”

Luckily the teachers following her stopped after the distance between them grew too big, Chihiro’s feet pounding along the pavement. She wanted nothing more than to get away from that school and to never see it again.

Tears blurred her eyesight, but she didn’t stop. Recklessly running across roads, part of her thankful it wasn’t rush hour.

She could see her house. Her lungs hurt from the sudden exertion. She’d run as fast as she could the whole way home. She let her knees buckle as she reached her driveway, shaking as she fisted her hands in the grass lining her house. Tears came thicker than before and her body convulsed with sobs.

She had to get inside. Before somebody saw her and called the school or something.

Forcing herself to stop shaking (though with little success), Chihiro dug through her bag, pulling out her keys, glad she had keyrings attached, it made them easier to find.

Pulling her blazer and raincoat along with her she wobbled up to her front door. Getting the door open through pure desperation alone, sniffing to try and hold back the sobs.

She slammed the door shut behind her and collapsed on the other side.

Not bothering to move her stuff she left it all there, violently tugging at her shoes.

She crawled her way up the stairs, feeling as though if she tried to stand she’d fall.

Ending up in the bathroom, Chihiro spent twenty minutes sat on the floor, head resting on her arms, legs going numb from where they lay folded underneath her.

Slowly, her back aching, she forced herself to sit up, grit her teeth and peel the ruined shirt off. It was now not only soaked in blood but sweat too from running all the way home.

A small, pained yell escaped when she had to contort her back to get the shirt off and undo her bra.

Shoving both blood and sweat-stained items into the corner of the bathroom, Chihiro shed her other clothes, a fresh wave of tears coming as she looked in the mirror.

A hand came up to touch her head.

On the right side of her head, a chunk of her hair had been shorn off to above her ear.

She could still hear the mocking, cruel laughter that had quickly turned into shrieks and exclamations.

How was she going to explain this to her parents?

What was she expected to do now?

She didn’t deserve this. She knew that. She had done nothing to provoke this cruelty, but still, she had had to suffer through it.

Not knowing what else to do, Chihiro moved away from the mirror, turning on the hot tap to fill the bathtub, putting the plugin once the water started running hot.

Her hands went up to feel her hair again.

It was bristly, the length making it stick up on her head. The skin beneath it still felt tender from where it had been pulled.

Feeling like she was choking, Chihiro grabbed a towel, holding it against herself even though she knew no-one was home (she felt too exposed) she ran to her room, grabbing a pair of large scissors from her art draw, she looked at them for a moment before going back to the bathroom. Now steaming up with the running hot water.

Perhaps, if she cut her hair, she could pass the terribly shortened bit off as a slip of the hand when she was trimming it herself. Then she could maybe convince her mother to help her even out the rest. Her parents were at work most of the time, so there was the chance the school wouldn’t be able to contact them. Or at least, Chihiro could hold it off until she figured out what she was going to do.

She cleared some of the steam from the mirror and set the scissors on the sink, her still trembling hands pulling out her now wrecked ponytail, only to be reminded harshly of the searing pain in her back, which she had been coping with by trying to ignore for the time being.

She braced her hands on the sink, feeling the wound open further and more blood trail down her back. She didn’t think it was a terribly deep wound, or she probably would have passed out from blood loss by this point, and the wound hadn’t been made with the intent to injure. At least, not physically.

The girls in her class had surrounded her the moment the teacher had left the class to go to the printer. Chihiro loved art class and her teacher was probably the best one she’d ever had. Sometimes she would go and hide out in the art classroom on a particularly bad day, and her teacher would clear everyone else out, citing that she was working with Chihiro to get her into the art college she was aiming for. It wasn’t necessarily a lie, her teacher had been the one to suggest the college to her, but generally, her teacher would just sit beside her and they’d both work on their art in peace, sometimes talking lightly. Her teacher knew that what Chihiro needed on those days was a reprieve, and so that’s what she gave her.

The only problem was that with her teacher’s blatant favouritism on Chihiro’s behalf, it only served to wind her tormentors up more than ever one the teacher was out of sight. And once that happened all bystanders knew better than to intervene for fear of getting turned on themselves.

So, it hadn’t been too surprising when everyone at her table had cleared out once the group of Chihiro’s tormentors had arrived. Asaki Mai at the head of them. It didn’t stop the bitter resentment from rising in Chihiro’s chest as she was thrown to the wolves though. Art was her best subject, and she put her all into it. She'd been working on a painting for weeks now. It was an ongoing project of hers and she was proud of it. But she’d known it was all about to get ripped to shreds once she’d seen the art stencil knife in Asaki’s hands.

What she truly hadn’t expected, was for the girl not to go for her painting, but for her.

Chihiro had automatically tried to wriggle herself free, pushing against the wrist of the hand holding the knife. She’d heard laughter, even from the guys in the class, who generally ignored her unless the girls were with them when they decided to make fun of her. Then more hands had started pulling at her, pulling at her hair.

“Oh, come on Ogino, we’re just going to give you a haircut. It won’t hurt.”

She’d remembered a part of her mind had caught on how cliched that was. If she’d not been so cornered she might have made a comment about them watching too many American high school movies. But it wasn’t one on one. It never was, and the last thing she had needed was to make the situation worse for herself. She’d had it bad enough trying to get away from the people surrounding her.

In retrospect, it probably was a bad idea to thrash around in proximity to a knife, no matter what type, but the panic had over whelmed her and she’d managed to shake off the people holding her down just as the blade had shorn through her hair, but then Mai had been pushed or jolted or something, and Chihiro had twisted away, but the blade had caught at the top of her back, causing her to let out a pained yell as Mai fell, and the blade cut down, across her shoulder blade as the other girl for whatever reason didn’t let go of the stencil knife.

The exclamations in the classroom had suddenly changed from ones of anxious nervousness and strange humour to ones of horror and panic as everyone suddenly realised this had gotten extremely out of hand.

Someone had yelled for a teacher, and Chihiro had hated them for it. Only now they went for a teacher?

She hadn’t said anything though. She’d had a hard time gritting her teeth through the pain. The pain and the anger. Her mouth had tasted of blood from the force she was exerting on pressing her teeth against one another. She had grabbed her things, not knowing what else to do, and she had fled.

Her back was still hurting, and her mind suddenly caught up on the fact that she was stood in front of the mirror next to which was the medicine cabinet.

With pain relief in it.

Opening the cabinet, Chihiro grabbed a familiar one. It was a green bottle and she remembered her mother giving it to her when she’d been hit with terrible headaches that kept her up for two days with no sleep. It had worked well and the head pains had vanished in less than an hour, letting her sleep.

Chihiro checked the bottle, seeing if it was headaches only, and thankfully opened the lid upon reading that it worked for physical pain. She assumed that meant injuries.

Taking two out, Chihiro put back the bottle, closing the cabinet and letting the pharmaceutical drugs rest on her tongue. She ran the cold water tap from the sink for a couple of seconds, scooping the water into her hands and using it to wash the pills down. She quickly turned off the water, mindful of the bath running beside her.

Closing her eyes for a couple of moments, she imagined the pills were already working. It helped a bit. Even though she knew in her mind it would take longer for them to take effect. Breathing out, she realised she wasn’t shaking as much anymore, and so tied a loose, low ponytail near the bottom of her head, not bothered to do much more, it was screwed anyway. She just needed the excuse. Then she got the scissors, and positioning them underneath the hair band she snipped twice, cutting her hair away. She was left holding her ponytail in one hand, and the scissors in another.

Not knowing what to do with her fist-full of hair, she let the scissors clatter into the sink and then deciding her shirt was another thing that was screwed to hell anyway, she toed it away from the rest of her clothing and dropped her hair onto it. Expectantly, much of it fell across the bathroom floor, but enough of it fell on her shirt, which was what she was looking for.

Not wanting to bend down with her still hurting back, Chihiro toed the shirt’s edges over the hair, trapping most of it inside. Then she used it as a type of rag, the damp thing gathering up the majority of the rest of her hair.

Kicking the bundle to the edge of the bathroom, Chihiro turned to the bathtub. It was pretty full by this point and steaming. She turned the water off, the steam rising off the bath appealing to her.

Chihiro never liked lukewarm baths. They had to be hot. A part of her wondered if that was by anyway influenced by her time spent working in the bath-house in the spirit realm. But the connection was vague enough for Chihiro to argue with herself that it was unrelated. Most of the time.

Stepping into the bath, Chihiro slowly lowered herself down into the water, letting out an involuntary sound of pain when her back hit the water.

But still, she didn’t get out. She grabbed a towel from the rack beside the tub, submerging it in the water, and pulling it out heavy and weighted with the hot water. Carefully, she adjusted it until it was against her back. Cushioning her wound as she lay slowly back.

Chihiro wasn’t quite sure what she was doing. She didn’t think this was going to help any. But it calmed her, and she needed that. More than anything. She just wanted to relax for a moment. Close her eyes and just be for a while.

Perhaps, if Chihiro hadn’t had been so distraught, she would have realised the pain relief she’d taken earlier wasn’t just for pain relief, but a form of sleeping pills. Perhaps, she would have read the warnings fully that they were very high dosage, and were only to be taken one at a time. Perhaps, she would have known that getting into that tub whilst under the influence of heavy numbing, sleep influencing drugs was the worst idea she could possibly have in the circumstances. Perhaps she wouldn’t have filled the bath up so high.

But she didn’t and so Chihiro’s mind was foggy when she closed her eyes, sleep pulling her under as the pills did their job. Slowly, Chihiro’s body followed, her muscles relaxing, and her knees bending where previously they’d been stiff and straight, keeping her in a fairly upright position, now they bent under the weight of holding up the rest of her body, and her mouth and nose went under.

And so her oxygen supply was cut.

* * *

Haku was alone, content in watching his river happily move along when the fluttering message arrived in front of him. He knew immediately it had been sent by Zeniba. She had an affinity for fluttering paper things. But the urgency of the message was apparent with the rapid pulsing like that of a hummingbird’s heart.

Quickly, he grabbed the message, unfolding it in less than a second.

His eyes scanned the paper before he folded it over and shoved it in his pocket.

Then he was off. His feet pounding along the grass then with one leap he was airborne, no longer humanoid as he had been to receive the message and flying as fast as he ever had before.

Chihiro.

It wasn’t long before he was focusing in on a blue house. Racing towards it, Haku focused his mind on Chihiro. A window slammed open and he barrelled into the room, his form shrinking until he was no longer a dragon, but a boy on the verge of manhood.

It was a semi-conscious decision. Not one that was at the forefront of his mind, but he knew that Chihiro would be older now and it had been a few years. In that time Haku had imagined that if they were ever to meet again, she might find it disconcerting to see how he hadn’t grown as she had.

Truthfully, it mattered little what age he looked. His true age wasn’t reflected physically.

But at that moment, all Haku could hope was that it wasn’t too late. Or else it would all mean nothing anyway.

Following his sense to where Chihiro’s presence was strongest, he stepped through to a bathroom within seconds.

From there it was easy to see Chihiro, and Haku didn’t hesitate before pulling her upwards out the water. He might not have been human, but he knew full well that Chihiro needed air to live. She couldn’t stay submerged.

Haku lifted her fully out of the tub, barely taking in the state of the room itself. Only registering the blood on the towel that lay half submerged against the side of the bath, of which the water was tinted a light pink and the bundle that had been thrown into a corner of the room. White stained red.

Making sure to lay her down gently, he tried his best to ignore her exposure, having met enough women to know she would likely be upset about this later. He would be happy to be on the receiving end of her anger for this if only she survived

Upon sitting back slightly from her after laying her down on the floor, his arm came away with thin red blood from her back where he’d lifted her as he released her from his hold.

Lowering his head to her chest, Haku listened for any sound.

Silence.

Her heart wasn’t beating.

Fear, panic and desperation overwhelmed him, dimming his hope like a tidal wave over a flickering candle, and hitting him with the force of one.

Quickly, he moved so one hand cradled her head, the other over her heart. He hadn’t done this before, but he would try. He willed his internal magic to heal her. For her heart to resume beating.

A bright light lit up underneath his hands and Haku forced the magic toward Chihiro. Rays of the bright energy tried to escape upwards, outwards and away from where his hands were pressing them, battling with Chihiro’s human nature. But Chihiro had entered the spirit realm once before. Lived there. That much was imprinted on her soul.

Haku forced his own magic to find that, to latch onto her soul and revive her.

It would take away her ability to be completely human once more, but Haku couldn’t leave her like this. He had to save her.

Finally. Finally, his magic latched onto her, suddenly surging forwards into her. Racing through her and reviving her.

As it did so it intertwined with her soul, leading Haku to catch glimpses of her life. From when he had first seen her, to when he had last seen her and onwards.

It made his hair raise, floating about his head as his rage and self-hatred battled dominance within him as the memories flickered past him.

He had been a fool. A true fool to imagine Chihiro could leave the spirit realm untouched. But he had thought she had. More so than any human should have been able to. She had been so bright. So determined and unbending. He had thought it would be best for her to allow her time without contact to the spirit realm to readjust to the human realm once more. The normality of it that would weaken the link she held with her knowledge and memories of the spirit realm. To give her the chance to forget.

But Chihiro hadn’t forgotten. Not even slightly. And it made her something different. The remnants of her time in the spirit realm still clinging to her. Even after all these years. Or perhaps she was the one clinging to them. Either way, she wasn’t like any other human.

Haku hadn’t thought of the consequences of that. Hadn’t realised, or thought it important how cruel some humans could be. But he could see that it was important. He could see that much and more in the glimpses into Chihiro’s memories.

He had left her alone thinking it would be better for her. Instead, she had been left alone with the burden of knowledge no other around her possessed, with parents who were rapidly becoming engrossed by greed – always wanting more, caught up in the web of consumerism and gluttony, of which had been their downfall before, something which it seemed Chihiro remembered all too well, something which she resented – with peers who felt her difference, even if they didn’t understand it, and who had been the cause of much of Chihiro’s misery.

The reason for the wound on her back. Healed though it was now, no longer open and bleeding. The reason for the ruined clothing and severed hair Haku could now recognise fallen and pushed to the corners of the room. The reason why Chihiro had been so distracted. So careless in her actions.

The reason for what would have been her death.

Haku wanted to punish them.

But he wouldn’t. Not yet.

Chihiro was breathing now, though still unconscious.

He should never have let this happen. He should have watched over her, Even it from afar. He had been selfish.

He had let himself grow attached to her. Though he had known she was human and he would have to let her go eventually. So he had let her be. Telling himself to let her grow on her own. To have her own life. Free of the spirit realm. Reassuring himself he wasn’t abandoning her. He had promised her after all. That they would meet again one day. He had reasoned to himself that he would still see her again. Far in the future when she had her own life and the years had made his attachment to her grow distant so it wouldn’t hurt so much to see her grown. Because, in his mind, she wouldn’t be the same Chihiro he had loved and protected.

It wasn’t true. She would still always be Chihiro. No matter how old she grew or how different she looked. That would never change. Her soul and the time he had known her for would be the same. No matter what.

Yet now, now he was with her again and she was still only a girl. She had been alone and hurting and he had failed her.

Wrapping her up carefully in a dry towel (careful to wrap it around her back and over, not wanting to injure her any more by pulling her around when she was unconscious) Haku lifted her up, carrying her through to the room he had come in, recognising it as her room.

He pulled the covers back on her bed with one hand, still holding her in his arms. He lay her down, pulling the covers back up to lay over her loose enough that she wouldn’t feel constricted.

Not knowing what to do now, he stood there for a moment, watching her sleep. Now he wasn’t scared for her life, he looked at her face for the first time in five years.

It was less childishly round. She still had that fringe she had had as a young girl, and he could remember from what he had seen of her memories that she had kept the two longer pieces of hair that fell out of her ponytail. Before it had been cut anyway.

Frowning, he wondered if her eyes still looked the same. If she still looked the same when she smiled, or if that had changed with age too. Her nose was the same, proportionally at least. She still looked like Chihiro. Just older.

Not wanting to stand and stare until she woke, Haku made his way back to the bathroom.

He let out the water in the tub, taking the towel and ringing it.

He used it to gather up all the hair Chihiro hadn’t gotten herself and then bundled it up with the rest of it wrapped in her bloody shirt.

That went outside. Not in the bin, as Haku had learnt enough to know Chihiro hadn’t wanted her parents involved, so Haku left Chihiro’s side briefly, to find somewhere less populated, where no-one was around to see the bundle in his arms turn to flaky ashes which were then caught by the wind and taken away.

The scissors were then removed from the sink and placed in the open draw of Chihiro’s dresser, were other scissors of ranging sizes were amongst numerous other things.

There were loose pages strewn across the top of the dresser.

Haku shifted his gaze to them as his eyes caught on something familiar.

The drawings were good. More than good.

And they were of the spirit world.

Not all of them. But far more than enough to be noticeable.

Tentatively, Haku moved a couple aside as he glimpsed a particular one lying underneath some others.

A dragon. White and green. With familiar green eyes.

She’d drawn him.

He wasn’t sure why he did so, but he turned the picture around. There was a date on the back. Dated to three weeks ago.

She hadn’t forgotten about him. Not even vaguely.

He’d left her alone for no reason. It hadn’t done any good. Haku realised she hadn’t wanted to be left alone. Why else would she be drawing the spirit realm? Painting its likeness.

She missed it. He wasn’t sure if even Chihiro realised that. It didn’t make any sense. She was in danger in the spirit realm. She was a human out of place there. Yet she longed to go back to it.

Haku felt selfish as he realised he wished she could. He wasn’t a selfish person generally. But Chihiro had trusted him. She had looked to him when she hadn’t known what to do and he had been able to calm her and help her and a part of him had taken that to mean she was his.

After all, Dragons were known for keeping precious things close to them. Often as guardians of the most valuable treasures.

A lot of it was lore. But some of it was true. Dragons were protectors. Guardians. And it was in Haku’s nature to guard the things that mattered to him closely.

And look how well he had done at that.

Haku clenched his fist over the last item he had picked up from the bathroom.

A sparkling purple hairband.

Chihiro must have been wearing it when her hair was grabbed. Then when she was injured it would have alerted Zeniba.

The witch had, of course, sent a message immediately to Haku. Haku may not have been on the best terms with Zeniba at first after his time as Yubaba’s apprentice. But once Chihiro had returned what had been taken, despite it being of little consequence at the end, Zeniba had been fond enough of her to forgive Haku by extension.

Once Chihiro had returned to the human world, Haku had thought his interactions with Zeniba were at an end. But the witch had been surprisingly helpful. Telling him she reckoned she owed it to Chihiro to make sure he didn’t get himself killed after all the girl had done to make sure he lived.

Haku wasn’t sure how far that went, but when he had been restoring his river, Zeniba had appeared to help clear the rubble of the demolished apartments, casting a spell to stop it being built over once more. Something Haku would have struggled with, yet the witch did with ease.

If he had to say, Haku would guess Zeniba had a soft spot for him too. She really was the opposite of Yubaba and seemed as though it was in her nature to nurture.

Either that or she just liked to collect things. That also seemed plausible.

Perching lightly on the bed beside Chihiro, Haku gently feathered his fingers through her hair. It really was quite short now. He wasn’t sure whether the hairband would hold it. Perhaps, when she woke up, Haku would ask her if she wanted him to regrow it. He could do that much.

Until then, he placed the hairband on the table to the side.

He wondered if he should contact Zeniba. Let her know Chihiro was alright. Part of him wondered why the witch didn’t come herself.

Figuring Zeniba could wait until Chihiro awoke, Haku gently withdrew his fingers from where they were smoothing the girl’s brown hair.

Leaning back against the headboard of the bed, Haku prepared to wait.

* * *

When Chihiro opened her eyes, it was dark. Night time.

She was warm and comfortable, and surprisingly awake for someone that had just then woken up. Chihiro was used to sleep clinging to her when she woke up. She often had to drag herself up and force her body to co-operate with her mind.

Not ready to move just yet, Chihiro closed her eyes for a moment, appreciating the feeling of waking up like this.

That suddenly came to an end when she remembered what had happened the previous day.

But then, why wasn’t her scalp still sore? Why didn’t her back hurt? Wait. Why didn’t she remember anything past getting in the bath?

Chihiro then realised she wasn’t wearing her pyjamas but a towel. Oh. Oh no. She’d fallen asleep in the bathtub, hadn’t she? That was probably the worst thing she could have possibly done.

Her dad must have been the one to carry her out then. Her mother didn’t quite have the strength to do that.

That meant they knew. That was literally the last thing she had wanted.

It didn’t explain why she didn’t feel in pain or at all uncomfortable. She knew she was in her room, so they couldn’t have taken her to the hospital or anything.

Shifting slightly, Chihiro tensed. She hadn’t realised before, seeing as she’d been stuck in her own musings, but there was someone sat on the bed behind her.

It must be one of her parents.

She did not want an interrogation the moment she woke up. Which they were sure to do.

It was probably her mother. The weight on the bed wasn’t enough to be her father.

Actually-

“Chihiro.” A soft, lulling voice. Her name spoken to draw her attention.

She recognised the voice instantly.

As fast as she could, Chihiro twisted around, clutching the towel when she felt it slipping as she manoeuvred herself into an upright position.

She was facing him. So close from where she hadn’t thought about personal space. She could see his face right in front of her. Almost the same. He looked older. But not by too much. He still looked around her age. Those distinctive green eyes still looked exactly the same and looked straight at her the same way she remembered.

He was here. Right here. In front of her.

“Chihiro.” Her name again. “How are you feeling?”

Haku looked worried.

She still couldn’t believe he was actually here.

“Haku?”

Her voice almost wavered with the intensity of having him there. She’d missed him so much she hadn’t even realised.

“It’s me Chihiro. I promised, didn’t I?”

Chihiro didn’t even try and stop the tears.

“I’m sorry, I should have come sooner.”

Tentatively, Haku raised his hand to wipe her tears away, though they kept coming.

Chihiro couldn’t help it anymore and leant forward straight into him. She dug her face deeper into his neck when his arms went around her, pulling her into a hug.

“I missed you.” She managed to speak against the tears. Aware it was potentially risky, Chihiro still freed her arms from where they were clasping at her towel to hug him back.

It didn’t matter though, because Haku adjusted his hold to trap the towel between them.

“I missed you too.” She’d forgotten how comforting just his voice was.

She stayed still in his embrace for a long while, even after she started to get cold. She was too afraid if she moved away this would be a figment of her imagination and if that was the case then frankly she would rather stay in her little world of imagination for the moment.

“Tell me what happened.” She whispered. Scared to speak too loudly and break the spell.

Haku looked down at Chihiro, whose face was still buried in his embrace.

Conscious that Chihiro had nearly died – had actually died before he revived her, reaching her before her soul drifted away from her body – Haku gently scooped her up, moving to settle her back down without startling her, making sure she was aware what he was doing as he settled himself beside her. All the while answering her question.

“Zeniba sent me a message to tell me you were injured. I came as fast as I could. I managed to revive you. You luckily hadn’t been under for too long, or else I would have lost you, but you’re still recovering Chihiro. You should rest.”

“And when I wake up, everything will be back to normal?” Chihiro asked quietly. Her voice heavy and tinged with a sad type of bitterness. It wasn’t malicious or resentful, more resigned, and it made Haku bristle.

Because no, everything would not go back to normal. If normal was how things had been before. Haku wouldn’t allow it. He had failed once already to protect Chihiro. He wouldn’t do so again.

“No Chihiro, things won’t go back to the way they were before. I promise you that.”

Chihiro didn’t know what to say. She just lay next to Haku, thinking.

“What happened after I left? Did you break your apprenticeship off with Yubaba after you remembered your name?”

“Yes. After you left I went to Yubaba. She uses our names as a way to seal the contract, taking them to ensure we can’t break away. But Yubaba had taught me enough magic as her apprentice, and with my name back, the contract was easy to break, even without Yubaba’s say so. After that, I returned to my river. It was built over. But it was still there, and I couldn’t leave it like that. I met another dragon. A fellow river spirit not too far away. They were willing to help me. The building was easy to empty. Just a bit of magic to create problems with the boilers and the gas systems and all its inhabitants were temporarily evacuated out. After that, I managed to collapse the building. It was completely useless to the humans anymore and so they left it. I’m sure they planned to rebuild over it, but with some help from my fellow river spirit and Zeniba, no human will build there ever again. I had my home back. Thanks to you Chihiro.”

Haku’s eyes shined happily at Chihiro and she smiled at him.

“All I did was help you remember your name. You did the rest.” Something occurred to her. Her eyes went wide, her mouth forming an ‘o’ shape in realisation. “I’m sorry. I’ve been calling you Haku all this time, I didn’t think.” Chihiro’s face scrunched up in mild anguish at her lack of thought.

Haku shook his head.

“No. It’s fine. Haku is short for Kohaku anyway, and Haku is as much my name as anything else. It no longer belongs to Yubaba. She couldn’t use it against me even if she tried. It’s mine now, not hers. Besides, before I entered into Yubaba’s apprenticeship, I wasn’t known by many people. Only as my river. Despite the times I spent there that weren’t so enjoyable, I met many people working at the bathhouse, who knew me by Haku, and though many were not, there were those few that became something of friends to me. Kamaji, Lin, even Zeniba, but mostly you. You all knew me as Haku, and my name doesn’t change who I am. It’s only the name people use to remember me by, and whilst my name is Nigihayami Kohakunushi it is also Haku.”

Chihiro stared at Haku wide eyes, flushing slightly under his intense gaze. She ducked her head down, shifting it on the pillow to break the contact, but still able to see where he lay beside her, only his face out of her line of sight.

Suddenly embarrassed again. Chihiro pulled the towel closer around herself, glad now that she was under the covers where Haku had insisted she rest.

“If it would make you more comfortable, I can leave whilst you rest.” Haku soft, cautious voice struck a chord in her and Chihiro was filled with a frantic panicking sensation.

“No. I don’t want that.” She pulled her head back up to meet Haku’s eyes again. He must have thought that meant she was uncomfortable with him around. That was probably the last thing she was thinking. She was happier with him here than she had been in years. Literally. That was a sad thought. “It’s just…” She flushed again.

She wasn’t sure whether to tell him that she was finally feeling embarrassed about only wearing a towel, and what that meant (because he said he had revived her and therefore he must have been the one to pull her out the bathtub and wrap her in a towel). But also, that she’d forgotten quite the intensity of his eyes on her, and that alone was apparently now enough to set her blushing once she wasn’t completely dumbfounded at him being here, in front of her. Or perhaps that she wasn’t used to anyone speaking with the same well-articulated passion and (yet again) intensity that he did. Even without her lack of anyone close to her, there was no-one that could compare to Haku.

She couldn’t just tell him nothing though.

“I’m in a towel?” Her voice went up at the end, turning it into a question even though that was not what she meant.

Haku stared at her for a moment before to her surprise, a light blush sprung up on his cheeks. She honestly hadn’t thought that Haku could blush. Being a dragon and all. But it seemed she had been wrong.

Before he could respond, Chihiro rushed to reassure him.

“I don’t mean it like that. I don’t mind that I’m in a towel because you brought me out the bath.” Chihiro’s face lit up even as she said it. “I just meant I should probably… get dressed?”

Yet again her sentence ended as a question even though she truly didn’t intend it to. She was just terribly afraid of Haku taking what she said the wrong way.

She relaxed more when he smiled at her.

“I’ll wait outside for you.”

Chihiro should have expected it, but when he sat up and moved away from her, anxiety started to pool in her gut as she also moved from her lying position.

Somehow Haku must have sensed that because he turned around with a frown on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

Chihiro blinked, most of her attention drawn to the hand cradling her cheek.

“Nothing. I’m okay.”

Haku tilted his head, staring at her like he was trying to figure her out.

“I’ll be just outside.” He reassured her. Seeing right through to her insecurities.

Chihiro nodded hastily.

Once Haku closed the door behind him Chihiro almost sprung up, almost stumbling as her head complained at the abruptness. Feeling almost dizzy.

She steadied herself for a moment, glancing at the door, both nervous and reassured that Haku was stood on the other side.

Quickly, Chihiro pulled her clothes drawer open, glancing out the window where it was still pitch black. Whether that meant it was ten at night or three in the morning Chihiro wasn’t sure. But she pulled out some sleep shorts and a large shirt. It was cold outside (that much she knew) but she was surprisingly warm herself.

She wondered if that had something to do with Haku.

Hastily dressing, Chihiro went straight to the door, reminding herself not to throw it open in her rush.

Haku was stood just on the other side like he’d promised. Which settled Chihiro’s mind immediately.

Attentive green eyes were on her immediately, and Haku stepped towards her.

“Your parents are home. I hear a car in the driveway.” He didn’t stop in front of her, rather pulling her with him as he stepped back into her room, shutting the door behind him.

Probably ten in the evening then.

“You can hear that far?”

“Human cars are quite loud, you are still a little unwell due to your injuries, otherwise I’m sure you could have picked up on it too, but as a dragon, I do have better senses than you and can pick up sounds more specifically and more easily. Though it’s easier in my dragon form.” Haku’s voice was quiet where they stood behind her door, and his body was oddly tensed where he held her close to him from where he hadn’t let go after he’d pulled her back inside.

“What’s wrong?” Chihiro whispered as she heard the door to the house. Haku tensed up even more.

“Nothing Chihiro. I-” Whatever Haku was about to say was cut off by a yell.

“Chihiro!” Now it was the young girl’s turn to tense up. Oh no.

“What is this mess? Get down here, young lady. You know better than to leave your stuff in front of the doorway. Your father has just tripped over one of your shoes!”

Chihiro looked up at Haku who hadn’t moved. He shook his head at her.

“Get back into the bed. Pretend you are asleep and haven’t heard.” He whispered to her.

Chihiro nodded once, and after Haku’s arms fell from around her she scampered back to the bed, slipping under the covers as she heard footsteps climbing the stairs.

Haku crouched in front of her by the side of the bed.

“Trust me.”

Haku placed his hand on her forehead and Chihiro felt a warm, tingling sensation spread through her. Drowsiness accompanied it, and her eyes shuttered as she tried to keep them awake, alarm trying to sound in her head as Haku’s palm left her forehead and his presence receded, but her head felt like it was bundled up with cotton, her thoughts getting lost in the haziness.

She pulled the covers further up when the door to her room opened. She almost swatted away the hand that rested on her forehead. It wasn’t Haku.

“You’re burning up Chihiro.” It was her mother. Chihiro ignored her, trying to turn away from her touch.

There was a sigh.

“Rest then. You can have tomorrow off school.”

Her mother left the room and there was stillness for a minute or so before Haku was back and the hazy warmth disappeared, clarity returning to her as she focused on Haku in front of her.

“What was that?” She wondered, her warm brown eyes bright with curiosity.

“Magic.” Haku’s answering smile was beautiful and Chihiro couldn’t help reaching out to hug him.

“You’re okay. I promise.” Haku whispered as he returned the hug somewhat awkwardly due to their position with Chihiro almost hanging off the bed.

Chihiro shook her head. She wasn’t upset.

“I know. I’m just happy you’re here.”

Haku tightened his hold on her in response, moving closer to Chihiro so she wasn’t hanging off the bed. Which ended with him almost kneeling over her. But Chihiro didn’t seem to mind too much.

“You’re still weak from earlier Chihiro. You should rest.” Haku gently pressed her back into the bed. She grabbed at his arms.

“You’re not going, are you?” Desperation was plain in her voice and on her face as she was faced with the idea that he was leaving. Because if he left she couldn’t ensure that he would come back.

“I can stay,” Haku reassured her. “If that’s what you wish.”

“It is. Please stay.” Chihiro felt foolish at the obvious desperation in her voice, but she honestly couldn’t think of anything worse than waking up the next day to find Haku gone.

“I will. But rest. You might feel fine, but your body is still adjusting to having magic inside it. It’ll settle better if you rest.”

“What do you mean, having magic inside of me?” Chihiro had known Haku must have used magic to heal her, it explained why she felt fine, but she hadn’t thought the magic was still inside her.

Haku sat down on the bed next to her and she wriggled across to allow him more room, folding her arms underneath her head as she positioned herself to watch him. She couldn’t help it really.

“I used my magic to heal you, but it’s more complicated than that. Most of your strength was already gone, I had to force my magic to latch on to the vestiges of the shadow realm that were imprinted on your soul from your time there. It was my own strength that helped heal you, and right now it’s fusing with you to become yours rather than mine, but the more you move and the more distraught or uncomfortable you get, the more it is disrupted. It’s keeping you alive right now, so you must tell me if something’s wrong Chihiro.” Haku leaned closer to her, watching for a sign that she understood what he was saying.

“I feel fine. Honestly Haku. Just don’t leave.” The knowledge that it was basically Haku that was keeping her alive caused a shiver of strange vulnerability to run through her. Was that why she felt such a strong need for him to not leave? Or was that just her own insecurities?

Haku didn’t reply immediately, just leaning down to lie where she had cleared a space for him.

“I’ll be here when you wake up. Close your eyes.”

Chihiro didn’t think about how easily she did as he’d told her, or that she didn’t panic or worry when she felt his palm rest over her eyes. She trusted him to keep her safe even as she fell asleep. It was instinctive.

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, I got the idea of Chihiro being an artist from another specific fic I read, but then I lost it so I haven't been able to alert the author. But if her being an artist sounds familiar then that's why. If anyone can think of a fic where Chihiro uses art as a sort of therapy, that could be one. But there are multiple of those, so it might not be too. Point is, I haven't directly copied any of this from anyone. The plot is mine, from my imagination, but the initial idea of her being an artist stemmed from another fic I read.  
> Thanks for reading. If you will, please review. Feedback is awesome.


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